Into the Fold
by GrandEclectus
Summary: Chakotay converted from Maquis renegade to Janeway's faithful Federation First Officer MUCH too easily. How could he do this without objection. How did he return to Starfleet so quickly?
1. Into the Fold

Title: Into the Fold

Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager

Revised:

No Spoilers that I know about.

Why? This is my answer to the gap between Chakotay the renegade, freedom fighter and Chakotay the Riker and some time Mrs. Janeway. I love Chakotay but he was marginalized more often than not.

Timeline: This takes place in one of the Buick sized plot holes in Caretaker. I'm not too clear on the exact amount of time between blowing up the array, getting saved by Tom and Chakotay joining the V'ger "family." Canon, Smannon! This is AU.

Alternative Universe, Angst, torture, maybe slightly kinky. PG Could go in the" Die J/C Die" sub-genre; Janeway is not so nice in this universe. Bad, Janeway! Bad!

Into the Fold

Captain Janeway cast an icy look on her prime prisoner as she dragged a bony hand over her sweating brow. Chakotay, Maquis leader, criminal, renegade, was in her grasp and on his knees in her brig. She had chased him across space at her superiors' behest and it had cost her dearly. Her ship was now 75 million light years from home and the brig was full of Maquis renegades who must be brought into the fold for a return trip to be viable.

Defiance welled up in Chakotay's broad chest, forcing him to struggle to his feet. His hands bound painfully behind his back made his ascent more difficult. Anger and adrenalin buoyed him despite the hours his Federation captors had kept him awake. His clothing hung on his muscular form like a tattered spider web, revealing gashes and bruises on his brown skin. She nodded to one of the guards, who struck the helpless man, causing shockwaves of pain to course through his body yet again as his knees gave way and collided with the deck.

"I don't enjoy this, Captain Chakotay," she stated.

"Really? Could've fooled me," he blurted through parched and swollen lips.

"It's necessary."

"Just another Federation necessity. How convenient for you." His chest heaved as he coughed and spattered a spray of blood on the steel grey floor.

"Listen to me Chakotay," she insisted. "We are in a dire situation. The next few hours will determine the fate of both of our crews."

"You think they'll be looking for you? Starfleet will turn its back on you, just the way they turn a blind eye to everything and everyone they don't want to see."

"It's imperative that we unite our crews and work together."

"My people will never work for you!"

"There is a way."

"No! I told you. No! Keep me in your brig!"

"I can reinstate you to Starfleet and you will take your place at my side as my First Officer?"

He laughed a wheezing, agonized jeer. "You think I could ever wear that uniform again?"

"Chakotay, don't you want to belong again?" she asked in a motherly tone. "You could be a part of this team. Don't you want to come in from the cold?"

"Obey your bidding! Follow your rules! Be your lap dog?" he scoffed mustering all his remaining strength to drive his point home directly into her face. "You're crazier than I thought."

"You sacrificed your ship to save mine. There must still be good left in you."

"I had no choice. It had to be done."

"I can give you a choice or this can be done without your consent."

"So what is it? Are you going to brainwash me? You and your Federation swine!" he spat the words.

"You're all alike! Every one of you! All brainless drones!" he accused bitterly at the Captain and her guards.

"I would like you to make the right choice. On your own. Without this."

She held up a hypo-spray that contained the ability to erase even the powerful will that Chakotay possessed. She toyed with the hand held Neural Neutralizer device, testing its beam. Dots of light glinted off its brushed metal surface. The highlights burst out of the darkness of the brig causing more pain to Chakotay's tired eyes. It seemed to him that the light at the end of the tunnel was indeed an oncoming transport.

"When the Cardassians killed my father and my people, your precious Starfleet wouldn't lift a finger for justice! That's when I made the right choice."

"I don't think so. Starfleet regulations exist to promote the betterment of all species. We will deal with the Cardassians by the best diplomatic means possible for the good of all concerned. Not by your brand of terrorism."

"You deal from weakness and fear! The very qualities that the Cardassians admire. They'll kowtow to you in no time." His sarcasm split the heat and humidity that his captors allowed in his prison, another tool for persuasion.

She confirmed the decision she had already made; she must subdue Chakotay by the means that were at her disposal. His suffering would be over and she would have him exactly as she wanted him--as a viable and obedient member of her Starfleet crew. Everyone wins.

When the EMH prepared the hypo-spray and set the hand held Neural Neutralizer, it recited the potential side effects of the procedure, which included "an 87 chance of the occurrence of severe and permanent Stockholm syndrome. The subject may develop a deep love and devotion to his interrogator." She would have to be careful in that instance. It was a high probability; she had noted and mentally logged the look in his eye for a split second when he saw her for the first time. She could use that to her advantage, but she would always know his true nature. It would be fun to toy with his affection, but she could never return the drug induced love of a traitor like Chakotay.

"You're going to poison me with your technology. Go ahead. It won't work!"

"Don't be so sure. It's extremely effective."

"It's evil."

"It's for your own good and the good of both crews." She softened and made a final appeal. "I need you, Chakotay. I need your knowledge, your leadership, your strength, and your determination. I don't want to do it this way but I will."

She regarded the potion and the Neural Neutralizer device with a slight air of regret. The man before her was a magnificent specimen. It would be a triumph for her if she could manipulate him with only the powers of persuasion. She could consider him a prize, if he would only agree willingly. This technological alternative was too easy. Instead, she preferred a challenge but she would do what was required to attain her goals. By the end of this day, one way, or another, he would agree to her terms. He would step in line, and the Maquis would follow because they had no other refuge.

Even in his weakened state, all three guards were required to subdue Chakotay's struggle. Their arms clenched him dispassionately, like iron shackles. He prayed to the powers of the universe to free him, pleaded with the Spirits for the salvation of his will. He would not allow himself to beg anything from Janeway.

When he was properly constrained, the gaunt Captain stepped to him and grasped his chin, pulling his head to his right. She regarded the tattoo on his forehead. This mark, noted in his file as an identifier, had traced itself into her mind. She scribbled it repeatedly onto her Padds then erased it. She did not want to leave a record of her private obsession. She began her this mission with a virtual "Wanted" poster. It detailed the accounts of his many crimes against the will of the Federation. This was a good ending to her quest.

She tried to deny the thrill of pressing the hypo to his neck. The interrogation had taken a toll on her as well. She wanted this business taken care of so she could attend to the task of returning her ship to Federation space. It was the end of a difficult chapter. Yes, she felt elation as he moaned when the spray stung his veins. She allowed herself a split second to savor the finality of this moment as the guards slowly released their grip.

"No" he pleaded weakly as he felt his will rush away.

She used the hand-held Neural Neutralizer and began reforming his consciousness, reshaping him into the Starfleet ideal.

His woeful eyes met hers and she watched his soul change. She saw his defiance and anger washing away. Then his eyes pleaded for release and finally she saw his acceptance and then, perhaps...was that something else? So quickly?

"Get him cleaned up and in a First Officer's uniform," she commanded. "Now!" she barked when they hesitated for a moment. "Bring him to my ready room in one hour."

Chakotay entered her ready room well within the hour. The EMH had healed his bruises and wounds. His uniform appeared pressed and stiff; perfectly neat and regulation Starfleet.

"How do you feel, Commander?" she beamed a smile at him as he walked in as if she were an old friend.

"Terrible," he said but smiled wanly.

"Well, you almost died down there. If it hadn't been for Tom Paris…"

"Yes, I owe him my life." He intoned. "Tell him…I owe Tom my life."

"Get ready. We'll go to the bridge and address the crews. I'll let your people go when I know I will have their full co-operation."

"That shouldn't be a problem, Captain. I'll talk to them. Each of them. I'll make them understand what we must do."

"Good! Welcome to the crew Commander!" she extended her hand which he clasped warmly.

"Welcome back to Starfleet."

"Thank you, Captain. It's good to be back."


	2. Pressed and Folded

Chakotay took his place for the first time on Voyager's bridge at Janeway's left. He felt wrung out but somehow euphoric. He stole a glance in her direction hoping she would not notice him looking.

She arose to address the crews. Her speech held him in thrall.

He studied the lights that glinted off her auburn hair. She was so determined and strong; the very picture of the pioneer woman portrayed in history holo-books. She was the rugged Irishwoman who controlled the reins of a covered wagon. Her forbears crossed uncharted expanse at great peril often fighting off his own his ancestors. The irony was not lost on him. Now he must follow her.

She inspired all as she spoke, even the bedraggled Maquis crew. Her words were compelling and he was riveted to every nuance of her speech. Each crewmember had a tremendous undertaking ahead on this voyage. A group of tattered survivors out of their element, they must travel a vast unexplored distance. The journey ahead was perhaps unfathomable, across restless and foreboding tracts of space.

He believed if anyone could lead them home, it would be Janeway.

Earlier that day it was his turn to speak to his own crew. The conversations he had with the Maquis were not easy. With great sincerity, he made the argument that they must all join the Starfleet contingent in order to survive.

First, he spoke to B'Elanna Torres. His close colleague was only showing mild annoyance. Had she been truly angry, to the extent of her Klingon heritage, he would have found himself in Sick Bay with severe fractures.

Her reaction to his proposal was a fiery but expected, "Are you insane?"

He dodged several flung Padds, a vase of flowers, a half-full cup of tepid coffee and a tricorder. It was easier than dodging Cardassian phaser fire, yet just as bracing.

"No, I'm not," he told her levelly as she aimed a chair at his head.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing!" she ranted as she slammed the chair to the deck. "What about the Cardassians? What about Starfleet? Do you really think we can all just waltz in here and be accepted?"

"No" he interjected quietly, hoping the barrage was over. The chair was the only thing left to hurl. "It will take time; we'll have to prove ourselves…"

"Prove ourselves?" her voice deepened, sounding more like a full-blood Klingon. It made him wary. "Chakotay, I don't know what happened on that planet. I don't know who you are right now!" She was beginning to weary, her human half emerging.

"Yes. Prove ourselves. We'll need to come up to their standards…"

"What about OUR standards? We'll never be like them, Chakotay! We'll never want to be." She paced like a caged leopard, baring her fangs.

"Look, this is going to be difficult, for everyone."

"Oh, yeah! Try impossible!" She looked out to the stars, tears of frustration welling in her soulful brown eyes. He knew he could approach her so he moved behind her.

"We both have extensive Starfleet training."

"You do."

"B'Elanna, you have skills we all need to get us back home."

"You know, I thought I'd left that life behind me. I just can't fit in. I never have and I never will."

"Do one thing for me, B'Elanna."

"What?"

"Go see the Doctor and get checked out. We all have to do it."

She sulked but acquiesced.

He left her to consider her options and hoped she would make an effort.

He oversaw a lengthy, tiring meeting with _Val Jean's_ entire crew. He knew they were in a state of shock. The balance of the Maquis was easier to convince than B'Elanna. They saw no alternative since they no longer had their ship. Michael Jonas and others grumbled their disapprovals. Sideward glares and stares laced with contempt were forthcoming from Ayala, Hogan and many others. Wisecracks and sarcastic remarks were in abundant supply from all the now-former Maquis. Becoming a complement to a Starfleet vessel's crew wasn't what any of them has signed on for.

Seska narrowed her eyes making her appear like a predator about to pounce. Her reaction was more of a controlled burn than B'Elanna's explosion. She agreed to his plan, "for now" she stipulated. He would have to keep an eye on her; he knew she could cause trouble for all of them. She had no love for Starfleet whatsoever.

Chakotay made sure that they each visited the EMH for their check-ups and shots.

After the end of the day, he finally entered his First Officer's quarters. It was much larger than his compact Captain's accommodations on the _Val Jean_ and it didn't feel real. Were his friends right? Had he lost his mind? No sooner than he had a glimmer of those thoughts another thought rushed in—Janeway. Now he had a moment to reflect, he realized she moved him.

She was small in build and slender, but he felt her strength. He had observed her lovely lips, quick to open to a smile that brightened the room for him. Her eyes, hands, hair, skin, the way she moved, her scent…

His head spun and his hand began to shake as he realized he had fallen for her. He felt embarrassed by his sudden schoolboy feelings. Now that he had agreed to live under Starfleet rules and mores, it was "inappropriate" for a First Officer to be involved with his Captain. There could be no future in it. Yet, there were his feeling, glaring and unavoidable. Had he sold out his ideals for an unexpected infatuation? That was not his style. He would have time to sort out his feelings. They had 70 years of travel ahead of them.

Perhaps Kathryn Janeway could return his feelings. Perhaps she never would. He would have to deal with those feelings in any case. In the meantime, he would do everything in his power to support her and their quest for the Alpha Quadrant. If she could not love him, he would accept the pain, but he vowed to himself that he would be there for her. He vowed to himself, he would do everything to ease her burden, even if it killed him.


End file.
